


Angel of Almaty

by chrondodite



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Emotional Abuse, Family Drama, Gay, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Homophobic family, Implied abuse, M/M, Physical Abuse, Sad, family illness, family stress, homophobic abuse, idk - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-05-18
Packaged: 2018-09-14 06:17:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,758
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9165700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chrondodite/pseuds/chrondodite
Summary: Yuri's family disowned him as soon as they saw the picture. It was of him, some years back at the gala, kissing this boy. He didn't know who took the photo - let's be real, it was probably Phichit, but it was circulating the web like there was no tomorrow. He couldn't stay with his grandpa - it was too close to his family - and Yakov wanted to send him somewhere for his safety. Yuuri and Viktor didn't have the time or space to let him stay with them so he went to the only place he could.Otabek Altin's doorstep.Or: Yuri's family rejects him and his only refuge is Otabek.





	1. i . Only Option

**Author's Note:**

> Hi uhm this is based off a rp I had, which stemmed from this prompt I came up with c: I hope you enjoy it it is kind of like angsty and it does mention about Yuri's family being homophobic and implies that they hit him at least once so like I warned you I guess?? Idk if I'll make this a slow burn or just a oneshot lmao if anyone likes it I might write more.

Somehow, a picture of Yuri had gotten online - it was probably Phichit and his damn selfies - from a few years ago. The only difference between this and the others is that Yuri was kissing another boy at the gala, more than likely drunk too. It hadn't taken long for his family to find out, where they demanded to know what was happening, and upon admitting he is gay, they pushed him away. After a week of being stuck at home with his family, he came to training one day with a bruise blossoming on his jawline. Yakov demanded to know what had happened, and Yuri clammed up. No way in hell would he tell Yakov this, but he already knew about the photo. He pieced it together, and Yuri flew off the handle when he tried to ask him about it more, confirming it in Yakov's mind. Yakov and his Grandpa needed to send him somewhere safe, but his Grandpa's house was too close, they'd find him there. Yuuri and Viktor couldn't take him because they didn't have the time nor space to look after him, especially with their training schedules. He didn't particularly want to be near them anyway, as it stood.

This is the series of events that led to a broken Yuri standing at Otabek's door, sniffling, holding his suitcase - having been sent off without a moments notice it was all he had. A couple of changes of clothes, his laptop, chargers, and one fluffy cat plush that his Grandpa had given him. Having nowhere to run, his newest friend was were he had suggested to Yakov as a place to go. He didn't question it, only checked to make sure he could go and be safe, before sending him off.

"C- Can I stay here for a while..?" The request was soft-spoken and so unlike Yuri, it was almost scary. When he glanced up at the older male, Yuri's voice caught on the end of his next sentence."Please. I have nowhere to go."

* * *

Otabek - who slept in pyjama pants and nothing else - had been sleeping rather peacefully, in the middle of his double bed, until someone knocked at his door. At 1:28am. On a Thursday. Sleepily, he stumbled to the door, sleep and confusion cloud his mind of who or what could possibly be knocking at his door at this hour of night. Unlocking and opening the door, wiping his face of sleep his blinked, staring down at a tear-stained Yuri Plisetsky, purple and blue bruise dancing across his jawline, who looked positively broken. If anything, this snapped him out of his sleep eyes widening a fraction before holding the door open for him, taking the suitcase as courtesy. 

"Yura? What are you--" He paused, shaking his head. "Yeah, come in." Otabek said, furrowing his eyebrows before returning to his usually stoic look. Shutting the door behind him he indicated that Yuri should sit on the sofa, noting that he wiped his cheeks rashly, almost ashamed of the remnants of tears. "Tea or coffee?" He offered, heading to the connected kitchen, putting the kettle. Having had no social media, and hating the very notion of the idea, he hadn't a clue of what was happening online. People were going crazy, and Yuri had definitely gotten at least 10 death threats in the first 10 minutes before he shut off his phone, not daring to touch it again. 

After Yuri mumbled something about a coffee with milk, please Otabek brought two cups back through, one for Yuri, one for him (black coffee). Setting it down in front of Yuri, he looked at him pensively, before asking, "Are you okay?" His voice was usually calm and collected as it was now, but anyone listening for it would hear the inflection of concern there. Yuri took a deep breath, holding the coffee cup to him, elbows folded against his chest. Otabek waited patiently, giving him the time and space needed. Another deep breath. 

"You don't know.." Yuri chuckled sadly, shaking his head. "Of course not. You don't have anything online unless necessary." He sighed, taking a sip of his drink. "A picture of me kissing.. a guy at the gala a few years back came out." Glancing at Otabek sideways, Yuri carried on when seeing that his face hadn't changed at all externally. "It didn't take long for my parents to see it - one of my siblings showed them." At this, his eyebrows knitted together. "They accused me of being a faggot. I guess I am? It was bad for a few days. I didn't want to be at home but what choice did I have? Then I showed up to training one day with this," Yuri paused, indicating the bruise on his jaw, "on my face. Yakov went nuts. He said I needed to leave, He knew about the photo. I couldn't see my Grandpa, because they lived too close, they'd find me and Viktor and his pig can't take me because they don't have the time or the space and I'm a disappointment to my family and you're my last hope--" 

He was cut off. The whole time throughout, Otabek had listened, patiently letting him speak, keeping his face immovable, unable to help protectiveness flaring up internally at the unspoken explanation of the bruise. When Yuri starting rambling, his breathing got quicker and he looked cornered - like a deer in headlights, tears bubbling up in the corners of his eyes. It was a heartbreaking sight and Otabek moved to put a hand on Yuri's wrist, trying to tell him to calm down through body language. His touch was gentle but the light pressure seemed almost comforting to Yuri. "Yura.." Gently waiting until Yuri had calmed down, he removed his hand, continuing, "You aren't a disappointment. I'm here for you. Stay as long as you need, please." He sat back, staring at him, thoughts unfolding in his head. Otabek gave Yuri a tissues to wipe his face, looking away whilst he did so to give him some privacy. "I'm sorry this happened to you." 

Knowing he must be tired, as he didn't respond to the comment but only just nodded somewhat gratefully, Otabek shifted his position slightly. "You take my bed tonight. I'll sleep on the couch. You look exhausted Yuri, and you need rest." Waving away any form of protest, Otabek stood up, leading him to the room and putting his suitcase down near the bed. "We'll talk about what to do next tomorrow." Yuri, being too tired to protest gave in pretty easily, barely having enough energy to peel his clothes off, falling into the bed in his underwear. Before his head hit the pillow he was asleep, dead to the world.

As Otabek set up his couch for the rest of the night, he lay down, wondering why he hadn't just gone somewhere on his own. He assumed that it was because he wouldn't be able to afford it or be able to stand being alone, and shrugged it off. Running over Yuri's last words in his head, he fell asleep thinking them. What did they mean? Surely the young blonde had someone else than him? However, thinking back, he thought of how many people he saw Yuri converse to regularly and happily. He couldn't name a single person. Mulling the matter over in his brain some more, he left a thought hanging off an edge, the words burned into his mind.

 

> "You're my last hope."


	2. ii. Nightmare Nights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Idk if i should do a chapter summary bc it'd spoil the end?? idk lmao uh hi again ppl wanted to see some more which made me happy haha so here i am again. haha uhm yeah more abuse ment. in this one, more otabek and yuri talking and figuring shit out about staying there and just chilling really. angst will be back i swear lol also im trying to up the word count bc last ch was like 1000 but im aiming for about 2000 ish this time around.

Stiff and groggy from a night sleeping on a sofa, Otabek sat up, rubbing his eyes free of sleep. Stretches ensued, before heading to the kitchen, first thoughts being to make coffee, as was the standard each morning. He'd set an alarm last night for 5:30am, like he always does, so he can get up early to do his run before heading to the nearby rink. He had an allotted amount of time before the public skate began, which had been arranged with the owners who were more than happy to let him skate there. It wasn't free, but it was cheap for the time, for which he was thankful.

As he leant against one of the kitchen counters, sipping his coffee (black) and looking out the window, a ghost of a smile crossed his face. Oranges melded into yellows and whites, fading to the soft grey of the rest of the sky, blending to blue halfway up. He felt that today was going to be a peaceful day, and Otabek was very seldom wrong about such a feeling. He stayed in this position for a few minutes longer, appreciating the world as it were. When it came to moving, he swiftly put his empty cup in the sink, heading to his room to get changed.  
Catching himself just before he opened the door, last nights events came rushing back to him, making his finger twitch above the door handle. Yuri was still very much asleep in there and if he went in, he'd have to be quiet. Luckily for him, Yuri tended to be a heavy sleeper, so slipping in and grabbing some training clothes from his wardrobe wasn't hard. Before he left, Otabek stood for a second, appreciation the way the light from the sun hit Yuri in just the right places, the curves of his body as he lay sprawled across the bed, hair a mess but not a bird's nest. He had thought to wake him before he left, but now deigned that doing such a thing would be cruel - he looked so peaceful in comparison with the last night. Sighing, he pulled himself from the room, carefully shutting the door before getting dressed in the bathroom on the off chance Yuri woke before he left, and brushed his teeth. Just before he left, it hit him as an after thought that he should probably leave a note, because he'd probably wake up and he wouldn't want him to panic. Grabbing a spare piece of paper and a pen, he began to inscribe:

"Yuri. I've gone out to train, be back later. Make yourself at home."

Short and to the point. Otabek nodded in satisfaction, leaving the note on the coffee table in plain sight, before leaving, locking the door behind him. As he started his jog down the stairs of his apartment complex, he caught himself imagining Yuri's body again. In sleep he looked... peaceful. Almost made up for his angry attitude for the most of the time, he thought, smiling softly to himself. As he left the building, he shook the thought from his head, heading off for his morning run, planning to head to the rink nearby afterwards for practice.

* * *

 

Yuri was in a peaceful sleep, feeling as though he were floating through a blank white space, splots of pastel colours breaking up the sheer white just perfectly. The bed was comfy and his skin felt wonderfully... warm for a change. The smell was different too. In his half asleep, half awake state he could smell the rosemary plants that Otabek kept in every room, making everything he owned smell like the stuff. His eyes fluttered open and he realized where he was, what happened last night rushing back all at once. Yuri lifted an arm across his eyes, stopping the sun streaming through the window from hurting them. Groaning when he remembered how he'd been such a mess last night, sniffling and crying on his doorstep and sofa. It only occurred to Yuri that actually.. Otabek was nowhere to be seen, and the only person in his bedroom was Yuri himself.

Sitting up, he looked around, paying more attention to his surrounds. His room was made up of soft browns, greys, blacks and whites, all complimenting each other. Yuri and his suitcase in the corner were the only splashes of colour in the room, and he frowned. It was so Otabek-like he wondered why he had thought Otabek would have a place any different to this. Yuri stayed there for a few minutes, appreciating the warmth of the sun, gazing at a tree sparrow on a branch outside the window. It almost made him appreciate life, it was so peaceful. He frowned again as he thought this, sitting up to waft the feeling away. Slipping on the first pair of joggers and baggy shirt he could find in his case, he walked to the bedroom door, pausing. Where was Otabek? This was his house. He vaguely remembered Otabek telling him to sleep in his bed last night but he doubted this was a two bedroom flat.

Walking out into the living room, eyes flitting around before landing on the piece of paper left for him. Reading it, he sniffed slightly. He'd gone out to train and hadn't thought to bring him? Although he appreciated the gesture of letting him sleep til he woke, it would've felt good to move again. He'd insist on coming tomorrow, he thought to himself. Yuri decided to take the note literally, walking to the kitchen to make coffee for himself and Otabek when he returned, noting the cup in the sink. Assuming it was Otabek's, he picked it up, washing it whilst he waited for coffee to be done. As he was pouring the cups out, there was a click from the door, signally it had been unlocked and someone was opening it.

"You locked me in?" Yuri called out, distaste evident in his voice. He carried both of the cups to the living room, placing down Otabek's on the table, remembering the strong smell of it from last night. "What if there had been a fire." Sounding like a child in a strop, he tucked one arm around himself. He wasn't actually angry at Otabek, but it was better than acting sheepish or flustered, since last they spoke he was a dismal mess. Jutting his chin out, he eyed Otabek. "Well?" This small act of defiance elicited a hidden smile from the older man, shaking his head slightly.

* * *

 

"In case someone had tried to come in, or that you might not have awoken until I got back. It made more sense." Came the short explanation and on a small level Otabek could understand why he was acting like this. He wanted to tell him that he didn't have to worry that he'd judge him, but he kept it to himself. All he got in response was the younger gently shoving - he didn't know how else to describe such an action as his - a coffee cup at him. Nodding his thanks, he noted it was the way he normally did his coffee. Perfect. Nothing else needed to be said so Otabek took a seat on the end of the sofa, as Yuri sat somewhere in the middle, tucking his feet up while leaning on a cushion. If Otabek had been anyone else, he'd have found it cute. But he wasn't, thus so it was just his friend Yuri. Friend being the important part. 

As they settled down to sit on the sofa, Yuri figured out the remote, managing to turn on the TV while Otabek got a book from the small table next to the arm of the sofa. It was his current read, Wee Free Men by Terry Pratchett and it wasn't his first time reading it. Flicking through the well thumbed pages, he settled where his last dog-eared page was. It was a strange book but he was rather fond of how it came across and how, no pun intended, novel it was. He was already several pages in the book when he had remembered saying last night that they should talk over sleeping situations the next morning, as he'd insisted Yuri slept in his bed. Seeing no reason to put it off, he bluntly said to the sound of the TV and Yuri's breathing, "What shall we do about sleeping? I can't buy a lilo, there's no space and I don't have the money." 

Right off the bat, Yuri turned to look him when he started speaking. He paused, thinking for a moment before replying. "You have a double bed, right? Why don't we just share that? It'd be like a sleepover, or something. It's what friends do." The last sentence had started to ramble, and was said more for Yuri's benefit - to justify saying what he had. Otabek said nothing for a second, mulling over the idea. When he could think of nothing better and no other option to the problem, he nodded his agreement. "Fair enough." The conversation had ended, and they resumed their silence, Otabek returning to his book. The silence wasn't bad, it was peaceful. With them, the silence seemed to speak all the words that they could possibly need to. Although the whole thing was new to Yuri... It felt homely almost.

This was how they stayed until it got dark, and a little after that. When Yuri started to yawn, Otabek cast little side glances from his book, not fully paying attention to it. On his fifth yawn however, Otabek closed his book, putting it down before looking at Yuri. "You're tired. Let's go to bed?" There was a slight question on the end, as though he was unsure of his conclusion. He wasn't when Yuri replied with a mumbled, "Yeah, sure.", rubbing his eyes. Walking to the bedroom which was still messy from this morning when Yuuri had slept in it. Moving to their respective sides of the bed in what felt almost like default, Otabek turned his back to Yuri to offer privacy, ever the ubiquitous gentleman. Stripping down and putting on a pair of sweats, Otabek slipped in to the bed, sticking to his side, keeping his back turned to Yuri as he got into bed. Planning to stay on their separate sides during the night, they muttered sleepy good nights to each other, before they closed their eyes, lost to the world.

* * *

 

_Yuri was walking back to his house after a day of training at his rink. Coming inside, he greeted his family like he would any other day. He didn't notice anything was wrong until he realized his parents were sat at the table, giving him serious looks. "What's this?" He questioned, staring at them. No response. He chose not to sit at the table with them, frowning as he stood. "Well?" They still said nothing but his mother slid a phone across the table. Walking closer to it, he recognized it almost immediately. It was a picture of him... With another man. The sharp intake of breath indicated to them that he hadn't known this existed, but that meant nothing to them now. Yuri knew what his parents thought of homosexuals. He took a step back, looking between them, eyes pleading. "P-Please, Mama, you don't understand, that's not--" He had started to explain before his father cut in harshly._

_"That's not what, Yuratcha?! Not you? Don't you dare lie to us anymore." The words were spat out of his mouth, distaste and disgust standing out in front of the anger. Yuri began to shake, bending his head so they couldn't see the tears starting to form. "_ Speak _, Yuri!" Came the command. He didn't know what happened next. All he saw was someone standing up from the table, storming to him, angry words, cowering, begging, crying--_

* * *

 

Yuri woke with a cry. He sat up straight, heart beating fast and hard, in a cold sweat, tear stains down his cheeks. Pushing a hand over his mouth to stop the whimpers and sounds from escaping, his other hand touched on the bruise on his jaw. Trying to tell himself he was safe, they couldn't get to him, that nobody could hurt him so long as he was safe with Otabek, he tried to calm his breathing. What he hadn't known on the other had was that Otabek had been woken from the first cry, and watched him silently as he looked around the room, eyes darting from object to object.

* * *

Otabek sat up, placing a gentle hand on Yuri's shoulder, for once unsure of how to help him. Yuri placed a hand over his almost automatically, removing his hands from his mouth and bruise. In the soft moonlight, Otabek could see his figure outlined, and on one side he could see scars and scratches and more bruises - ever more bruises - blossoming down the sides of his body. In a silent horror, his grip on Yuri's shoulder tightened slightly. He knew where he got the first bruise. Surely these weren't..? He shook the thought from his head. Opening his mouth to say something, he paused, before saying something simple. "You're safe now." He didn't know how unsafe he had been, but he was sure that right here, right now.. He would let nothing get to his friend. He would make sure of that.

Wondering if Yuri would say anything about his dream, no, his nightmare, he kept a silent eye on him. Of course, Otabek was curious about what he had seen but... being a friend came first. He would never dare say anything that might stir anything up in Yuri, it would be plain cruel, seeing from his display last night. Instead, he sat there, keeping his hand on Yuri, watching as his breath gradually returned to normal. When Yuri glanced at him, he was met with warm and trusting eyes, saying everything Otabek never did. Knowing he was safe, Yuri began to stutter out, "I- I was back home. My parents they.." He trailed off, before starting up again not long again. "It was when they saw the photo. Papa was angry." His word were simple, but Otabek understood. The smallest pressure from his hand was an indicator of this (and that he need not say more, if he shouldn't want to), as they laid back on the bed, neither seeming to notice - or care - that they were closer than they had been last night. Close enough to feel the warmth resonating off the other, they fell asleep to sound of their timeless breathing.


	3. iii. Frightful Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ah hi i dedicate this to my ultimate bae on here: http://archiveofourown.org/users/ethrealeunwoo/pseuds/ethrealeunwoo they made a really good astro fic you should totally go read it??? anyway lol ive been writing this for a while to get it right ah also oh my god?? ive got nearly 100 kudos im screaming

Otabek woke up later than usual, slightly surprised that he slept through his light alarm. Normally, it barely took that to wake him - he was a light sleeper. Yet somehow, being in Yuri's presence... made him want to stay in bed that little longer. He had never related to that 'five more minutes' thing but now, in his circumstance, Otabek understood nearly everything around him. Like how he stopped to appreciate life more often, the views he was so lucky to see: the sunset and sunrise, the view from his apartment, the way how if he was still on his running route, he could see the little robins jump around. And best of all.... Yuri.

Every morning, he awoke to see the other males face just a fraction away from him now. It had been a week or so since Yuri had turned up on his doorstep, and true to his word, Otabek took him in and housed him, cared for him even. Slipping out of their (shared) bed, he sighed, looking down at Yuri. It wasn't a sad sound, it was far from it. It was happy and light yet full at the same time. Like there was a weight him. Shaking himself internally, Otabek headed to his wardrobe, picking out his training clothes. Normally Yuri came with him as he trained - he was still a skater, even if it did feel like a vacation - for it was good for him, and kept his mind at bay. Yuri hadn't said anything but... the way he acted told Otabek there was more damage than what he could see. It was in the little ways the other would flinch if Otabek moved too fast, or in how he'd wake up in the middle of the night to find Yuri gone from the bed, instead standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring at his half clothed body. It worried him.

"Yuratcha, wake up. We're behind." Suppressing another sigh as he tried to wake the stubborn blonde, Otabek turned and walked from the room, trusting Yuri to handle it from here. He always woke first, leaving the room when it was time for Yuri to get dressed, not wanting him to feel self conscious in his presence. When Yuri stumbled through, he still looked a mess, but now a fully clothed mess. Handing him a cup (coffee) and a plate (omelette), he indicated for him to eat. Otabek worked on his own breakfast, chewing as he considered what route to take today. For some reason he felt like he should mix up their run a bit, but eventually decided against it. Yuri would probably complain, and he'd rather the other felt comfortable in a routine like their current one. Consistency was probably the best thing he could give Yuri right now - that, and space. Otabek knew what he felt for Yuri wasn't strictly friendship... but after what he'd been through? He was vulnerable, it wouldn't be right.

They'd been practicing on ice too for a while now, skating on two separate sides of the rink; Otabek working on next years free skate, Yuri working on his but sent through videos by Yakov, and what he'd learnt whilst he had been in Russia. After their run, they came back here to practice for the next few hours, so infused into their work, Otabek barely noticed as Yuri slid over to the edge of the rink, hands reaching for his water. "What's up?" Called Otabek, gliding over to him, noting the sour expression he wore. As he waited for a response, he decided to take a drink too, reaching for it.

* * *

 

"I cannot do this jump. For some god awful reason, Viktor and Yakov are trying to make me do four quads, 3 of them in the second half." Yuri's grown was evident, as he leaned against the walls of the rink, supporting himself with his elbows. " _Apparently,_ Lillia told them that with my body type I could. What she didn't remember to think about, was whether I would survive the whole ordeal!" His voice had an angry edge to it, and he glared at particularly nothing. He frowned as he heard a small, soft laugh come from his left. It was.. Otabek? He honestly hadn't know whether or not the other male could - or would - laugh. Occasionally he'd say or do something that warranted a smile... But never a laugh. At least, not before now."What's so funny..!?" 

Of course, it was natural for him to respond to anything good or pure with anger. It was just his way of things, and he had half expected to hear the laughter cut short, silenced by his own voice. But instead, Otabek moved on unfazed, to say "Nothing, no it's just.. You don't normally say things that are meant to sound comedic, but this did." His laughter now reduced to a smile, he look at Yuri curiously. "The dying thing?" The pause was minute before Yuri's laugh, that if Otabek had been anyone else, he wouldn't have recognized it. But he was himself, and his mask moved back into a mask, looking at Yuri with cold calculation.

"What's the matter. Something's up.." The latter part was said to let Yuri know he wasn't just grasping at straws. That he'd noticed all the little things, all the pauses, the nightmares, the bruises, the marks; all of it. He knew. And of course, instead of opening up or asking for help.. Yuri did what he does best. He scowled, gliding closer to him, until there chests were nearly touching. "Don't ever bring this up. You don't understand  _shit_ , Otabek." He punctuated this sentence with a scoff, lips curling in a mix of disgust or anger. "Don't pretend like you care that much." In his past, the little 'friends' Yuri had had were fakes. They were littered throughout his childhood of skating, always choosing to be with him because he had so much talent. They did this - or rather their parents told them too - so as to draw attention to themselves, and therefore Yuri had come to see friendly concern as a lie; nothing more, nothing less.

Otabek sighed. "Yuri, I just want to help you. I'm here for you." He said this, looking directly down at the younger male as he did, not breaking eye contact until Yuri was forced to look away, only making him angrier. "I understand you may not want help.." Otabek continued, only now feeling his voice soften, "... but I'm here, all the same." Being all that he had to say, Otabek sighed again. This time it was softer, more for himself than anyone else notice. Shaking his head, he looked up again. "Anyway. Where were we--"

* * *

 

He had only just begun to speak, when a chiming sound came from the bench with their bags. A frown crossed his face, sliding away from Yuri to exit the rink, heading for their bags. Briefly, he wondered who would be calling him? It wasn't like he had many friends to speak of - Yuri was right here - and his mother never called during training. Whoever it was, it must be important. Either that.. or someone oblivious to his training times. Picking up the phone, noting how it was a number he had never seen before, Otabek answered in Kazakh, asking who it was.

His face paled, eyes widening as he took in the information someone was telling him. "What..? Yes, of course. I'll be right there." He disconnected the call, turning to Yuri, face stricken. "I'm sorry." He said, speaking in Russian again. "I have to go. It's urgent. I'll be back at the flat tonight." His voice was tight and clipped, as though it was all he could do to speak and stay standing. As soon as Yuri saw his face, a chill went through him. Without waiting for a response he turned around, grabbing his bag and jacket, speeding up as he went, heading to the changing rooms - the exit was on the other side. He could barely force himself to take off his skates, pushing them in the bag. For the first time in what felt like years... he was panicked. His mind was clouded, thoughts drifting. His face was the most emotive it had ever been. 

Before leaving the building, he took a moment to control his features. Although he wasn't extremely famous, it was enough for people to recognize him on the street, and it wouldn't do to see himself on social media, shaken from recent news at this time. It barely even occurred to him that he was leaving Yuri on his own as he crossed the parking lot to his bike, climbing on and securing a helmet. This was going to be a drive and a half, and that meant staying safe. Even now.

He didn't allow his mind to think about what-ifs as he went, focusing instead on the roaring of the engine, the wind slipping past his body, the grip of his hands on the handles. He couldn't faze out completely... but enough to stop his mind from actively thinking. Otabek couldn't let him think the worst - it just wasn't something he could do to himself right now. He thought all this to himself as he sped down streets and roads, only his destination in his mind.

The hospital.

* * *

Yuri was angry. Of course he was. His friend - only friend - had run off in the middle of training to God knows where, and left him alone. He hadn't followed him because his eyes had caught the look on his face. Otabek had looked like his world had fallen apart whilst he was stood in the middle; he'd never seen him so emotive. He grumbled, pushing this thought out of his mind as he grabbed his things and headed for the exit. Sure, after he'd gone he'd tried to call him - nothing. Deciding not to worry, he had after all told him he'd be back tonight, Yuri tried to continue his routine. If he couldn't do the jump before, he certainly couldn't do it now. Often, anger pushed his skating skills to the limit, but not this time.

Blaming his failure on Otabek as he got off the bus (they came here on the other's bike which he had ridden off on) that he'd been forced to get, his frown looked like it was etched into his face and his glare settled on everyone and everything he passed. A cat hissed and ran off, a bird tweeted to it's friends and flew away, a squirrel ran from his thundering footsteps as fast as it's paws could carry it. Nobody wanted to ever be in the self-proclaimed Ice Tiger's path when he was mad. And oh boy was he  _mad._

It was like someone had grabbed a cat, put it in a box, proceeded to shake that box exceedingly. Arriving at the door to their now shared flat, Yuri had no troubles getting in. After day 3, Otabek had gotten him a key of his own, in the event he was ever locked out, or had to go home before him. Or in this case, dumped at the ice rink by his stupid so-called best friend. Opening the door, he slammed it without hesitation, deciding the hag next door could complain all she wanted, he wouldn't understand a word of it. 

Desperate for something to occupy himself, to stop himself from destroying Otabek's apartment - he was angry, but not angry enough to be senseless - as he settled onto the floor, deciding to watch TV. Sitting there, festering into a little ball of red-hot anger, he could barely focus on the show as he waited for the other's return. Yuri wasn't sure how long he'd been sat there, he was surprised he hadn't burned a hole into the middle of the sofa, before he'd heard the key turn in the lock. Jumping to his feet, his glare only deepened as his gaze set upon Otabek. Otabek however, had his back to Yuri and was locking the door behind him, movement slow and clunky. Turning to face Yuri, his face was... tired. He couldn't think how else to describe it. In retrospect he should've stopped, controlled himself, asked what was wrong. 

He really should have.

"Where the  _fuck_ were you Otabek?!"

* * *

Otabek flinched. He was exhausted, he couldn't feel his fingers, and it felt like he had lost almost everything important to him - save for Yuri. And now... that very same Yuri was shouting at him at the top of his lungs. Biting back a sigh, Otabek frowned, forcing his face back to composure. Unbeknownst to him though, this only maddened Yuri more. Not only had he a) run off without telling him where he was going and when he'd be back, but also b) pushed himself into his reclusive shell of a mask. Looking up at Yuri with that blank face of his, he was met with a sneer.

"Of course you won't answer. You run off and leave me all alone, and when you get back you--" He stumbled on his words, and Otabek waited patiently for him to recover. As much as he knew this would hurt, he needed to get it out of his system. "You have that face on, like you've done nothing wrong! When really, you know exactly what you did!" Otabek paused, checking to make sure that he had finished his little bit. "Yura I--" He began, before he was immediately cut off with a harsh; "You don't get to call me Yura, Otabek." It wasn't angry. It was cold. And Otabek thought that that hurt more than the anger. "Yuri, I'm sorry." He amended. "I got a call, it was urgent, I'm sorry. I had to go and... I can't tell you where I went."

It wasn't that he couldn't tell him, it was that he didn't want to. He'd been at the hospital, with his mother. Something had happened when she was serving lunch at home, and she started coughing blood. His sister panicked and called the hospital, who called Otabek after they'd found out his number. He'd spent the last several hours sat in the whitewashed hallways, or in her room, holding her hand. She was too weak to speak or move, and Otabek was scared. He didn't want to tell Yuri, it was too personal, too painful, and Yuri had enough on his plate already. At some point, he had lowered he head when speaking, and now risked a glance up at Yuri. He looked furious. 

"You.. can't tell me..?!" He whisper-shouted. Otabek looked again at the other, and saw how tense his shoulders were - presumably from holding himself back. A thought crossed his mind then; what if his parents had already influenced him too much? He didn't know how long they had been treating him that way. Would he do the same as them? For a second he felt scared, properly scared. Then the thought was gone, the moment had passed, and he took a deep breath. Looking away, Otabek let out the breath, closing his eyes. "Yuri." He kept his eyes closed, feeling as though he might crack if he opened them. "I was visiting my mother. She's sick. At the hospital. They don't..." Another deep breath, this time the exhale was shaky. "They don't know if she'll live."

It was a second before any reaction came from the smaller male. It wasn't vocal anyway, and if it had been he probably wouldn't have heard it. Instead, it came in the form of Yuri slamming  himself into Otabek in what he would call a 'hug'. Yuri's arms were around his waist and they'd become pressed against the door. It took a second of hesitation on Otabek's part before he melted into the hug, burying his face in Yuri's shoulder. He didn't realize, but he was trembling under the other mans hold. It felt... good. 

Yuri pulled away too soon, but enough too look at Otabek's face. He recognized the signs now. His face, the way his hair was so messed up - from dragging a hand through over and over. He regretted being angry now, and realized he'd been unfair. "I'm sorry, Beka.." He began, voice soft. "... I shouldn't have gotten angry. I'm sorry that this happened to you." He should've listened. "I just.. I thought you weren't coming back." Yuri ducked his head, feeling shamed to have reacted in such a way whilst Otabek was struggling without him. "I was so scared." Glancing back up at him,  Yuri was surprised to see a ghost of a smile on his face as he looked at the blonde.

"It's okay, Yuri. I forgive you." His words had hurt. But it was okay, truly, because he had him in his arms, with him in every sense of the word. He felt slightly bad, having not texted or called to tell him anything. "I should've texted. I didn't mean to scare you." Shifting his arms around, Otabek held Yuri's cheeks in his hand, looking him in the eye. "I will never leave you. I'm not going to run off. Because I care about you, Yura." He risked calling him the fond nickname, and felt like it had paid off when Yuri leaned into his hand. "... Good.." Was the only response he got, softly spoken and heartfelt. 

It was at this point that Yuri noticed how close they had gotten. Physically speaking, that is, they were mere millimeters away from each others face, chests pressed together after the hug that he'd started. Then, however hard he tried to fight it, Yuri felt a deep, hot blush spreading across his face. Ducking away from him, he tore apart from Otabek, folding his arms and sticking his chin in the air. "It's late. Let's go to bed." He said. It was curt and short, but the blush was still present, even after he had stormed off to the bedroom.

It only took a second for Otabek to follow, a lazy, lopsided smile spreading across his face. He didn't know how he'd survive without him. He let the smile drop before he followed after Yuri, closing the bedroom door after them, checking to make sure the house lights were off. When he walked in... He was surprised to see Yuri stripping himself of his shirt. Normally, he didn't do this in front of the other male, presumably being self-conscious of the marks littering his torso/upper body. Not letting the surprise register, Otabek did the same, sliding into bed. Glancing over at Yuri, whose blush had now calmed, he smiled to himself softly. 

As his eyes fluttered shut, he felt a hand slip into his as sleep claimed him, and a voice saying; "Пожалуйста, не оставляйте меня ..."

 

  
**((Пожалуйста, не оставляйте меня ... = Please, don't leave me...**


	4. iv. Uncomfortable Unity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im planning a sequel for this lol maybe it'll be good maybe not. i seriously need to stay on top of writing this oops.  
> i've also made a tumblr for writing bc i also use that, so go hmu there maybe???  
> https://backstreetsandbuses.tumblr.com/

Otabek pretended he hadn't heard what was said that night. Where was the point? It was just Yuri's sleepy rambles, and besides, it wasn't anything special. Just Yuri asking him not to leave. He wasn't planning on it anytime soon. But... He'd started to see him different. Otabek has always been good at hiding his feelings from others, even himself. He was skilled at being able to morph his face into that of complete apathy. At being able to keep his face a blank canvas. It was a skill practiced over many a year, for sure, and to date it had never failed him.

Yet now he could feel his mask crumbling at the edges. Not a lot, but enough to make him notice. It forced Otabek to stop ignoring his feelings and emotions - to face them head on. So when he awoke before Yuri that morning, he laid still, watching his face. The younger blonde seemed so calm when he slept. So soft. How easy it would be to lean just a little closer, place his hand against his cheek.. He stopped himself mentally. He can't think like that. It wasn't right. Not with Yuri in so much turmoil, and their friendship at stake. Just because he's gay doesn't mean he'd automatically like him, does it? As he was thinking to himself, Yuri blinked, a yawn escaping his mouth - a sign he was awake now. Pushing away slightly, Otabek now glanced at his face one last time before sitting up fully. "Morning." Was all he said. He'd never really been a man of many words, and knowing that Yuri wasn't a morning person, Beka chose a phrase that didn't need a response. As he had assumed, all he got in acknowledgement was a tired groan, before Yuri rolled over; taking the rest of the covers with him.

Stifling a sigh, he slid out of bed, feet padding softly on the floor as he went to the wardrobe. He needed to look.. Smart, collected, calm today. It was their one day off in the week, and this was the closest chance that they had to see his mother, as she wasn't in an urgent state. Although, Otabek had been on edge all week, lest he receive another call to inform him of more terrible news. He wasn't skating his best, and he certainly hadn't been functioning his best either. It pained Yuri to watch him stumble through each week like this. He'd learnt to read the subtleties in his face and the way he spoke, and he knew he wasn't doing okay, despite how many times Otabek would insist on it. He wanted his mother to think he was fine - if he looked broken then she'd break too. It was simple, really.

* * *

 

Which was why on their way to the hospital on Otabek's motorbike, Yuri had taken a photo of the sky (it was a beautiful colour today, pale orange mixed with pinks leftover from the sunrise) and put it on instagram. The caption read, "Hoping Mrs. Altin feels better soon. Sincere prayers." It wasn't much, just his way of showing the world he cared. Plus, he hadn't posted in a while, his self-proclaimed 'angels' were starting to get worried. They sped along the motorways, Yuri's arms wrapped arms around Otabek's middle tightly, so as to not fall off. He could still hear the wind rushing past his head through the helmet.

They came to a stop outside of the hospital, but by now Otabek looked visibly shaken. Not a lot, but enough. Taking off his helmet, Yuri stepped forward to Otabek, slipping his hand into his for a second, giving it a reassuring squeeze. It was a friendly gesture, one to let him know he was there. Words weren't needed. Otabek looked up, letting out a small breath before smiling slightly at Yuri, more for his benefit than his own. "She's going to be okay." Yuri spoke softly in a reply, much more concerned and sincere than when he normally spoke. Wordlessly, Otabek nodded, letting go of Yuri's hand as they turned to walk inside the hospital. Asking for information as to where she was, they got the room number and somehow managed to find their way there, knocking on the door.

"Come in." Came a voice from the other side, of which Yuri assumed must be Otabek's mother. She sounded like she was trying to keep the happy intonation in her voice, however she still managed sounded frail. Following Otabek into the room, he was surprised to see a small woman in the big bed; she looked completely engulfed in the size. It felt disproportionate. Shifting out from behind Otabek so he could be seen, Yuri stared at the lady, not bothering to hide it. Funnily enough, however, she offered him a large smile, her eyes seeming to light up at the sight of him. "Beka!" She called out, true joy in her voice. It... It warmed Yuri's heart to see this. She was so happy to see her own son. It hurt, in a way; he almost wished he had a relationship like that. Almost.

Otabek's response was even better. He didn't seem to worry about acting too much like a kid, or get embarrassed by her greeting, instead leaning down to hug her in the bed. He smiled warming and bravely at her, mumbling something in Kazakh, presumably a fond greeting, before pointing to Yuri. He spoke in Russian now, and his mother could understand him. "Mother, this is Yuri. You remember, the Russian skater?" She nodded, eyes looking happier to see him. "Yuri!" She called, beckoning him closer. Embarrassed as he felt, he forced himself forward, taking her hand in his to shake gently. "My son has told me so much about you!" He could've sworn he saw Beka blush but.. No. He shrugged it off, keeping his eyes focused on his mother. "I cannot wait until you meet the family!"

This, well, it threw Yuri off guard. Why would he be meeting the rest of the family? Yuri had only come along to see Otabek's mum since he needed the support. And the way her eyes shone.. So proud. Alongside Otabek's (supposed) blush? It all seemed very suspect. Before he could question it, however, Otabek cut in, coughing loudly to draw the attention his way. "Yes, Mama. Yuri is happy to meet you too." Was it just him or was Otabek... Avoiding his eyesight? He soon realized he was supposed to talk, abandoning his thoughts in way of this. The other male's eyes said 'I'll tell you later'.

"Yes, I've heard about you too, Mrs. Altin. You're a very nice lady, and I'm honoured to finally have the grace of meeting you." A flatterer at heart. Otabek hadn't really said much about her really, avoiding the awkward topic of family in a small form of tact, once of twice mentioning her. He knew however, that lying this way had been a good choice, because her eyes lit up even more. It seemed unreasonable to think that this lady had been near-death only a few days ago. As she insisted that Yuri call her Mama too, they both pulled up chairs, sitting down next to the bed. Idle talk ensued, coming easily in this atmosphere, littered with some Kazakh that Yuri couldn't understand. Eventually he fell silent, dropping out of the conversation to think about Otabek's family. Mrs. Altin - Mama - had mentioned meeting the rest of the family... Did Otabek have a very big family? He really never went into detail about it.

He made a mental note to ask about it later. Instead now, he focused upon how nice Mama was. And how different she was to Yuri's own parents. She loved her son with all her heart, that much was obvious. It wouldn't surprise him if she supported any decision he would choose to make ever. This then brought him to the question of his own parents. Why had they been like that? Perhaps- Perhaps it was just him. Maybe if even Otabek's mother was his own she'd have turned against him too. Hah, he wouldn't blame her. Nobody would want a mediocre gay ice skater as their kid. Nobody would want him even if--

"Yura..?" Otabek's voice cut through his thoughts, something told him this wasn't the first time his name had been said. Beka's voice was soft and gentle, notes of worry and concern weaved in. He realized rather suddenly that he had tears down his cheeks, a few dripping onto his lap. "Yura, are you okay..?" It felt like there was no one else in the room, save for them two. Sniffing ugly, Yuri wiped at his eyes roughly, nodding. "Yeah-" His stature wavered, and he started again. "Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry I just -- She's so nice and I couldn't stop thinking--" This time he cut himself off. He didn't need to tell anyone anything. Forcing a smile, he knew Otabek wanted to ask, he could see the question in his eyes. Shaking his own head slightly, he motioned that this should be saved for later. If Otabek wanted to ask further, he didn't.

* * *

 

After that Yuri had slowly resumed the conversation - Mama threw a few care-filled glances his way, but stopped soon enough, acting as though nothing had happened. They all did. It wasn't long before they had to leave, waving goodbye and hugging Mama. Today had been pretty nice. Otabek said nothing still, climbing on to the motorbike, starting it as Yuri got on. They rode home in silence, Yuri staring out across the grasses and the fields, the only noises around being the wind at his ears and the hum of the bike under his feet. It felt almost peaceful... He thought, and he didn't at the same time. Staring out of the melted sunset, it was as though his brain had almost ceased to think. He liked it.

* * *

 

 Otabek still said nothing to him when they got off the bike, walking into the tall, foreboding apartment building. He was entirely okay with that. Because he knew, that when they got into the building, the questions would probably start. He was right about that one, because the second they walked in, he saw Otabek open his mouth to speak. Yuri cut him off effectively, sounding tired. "I'll... Tell you later, okay? I'm just hungry now. Please." The other male seemed to hesitate for a second, before nodding, silently heading to the kitchen to start preparing food. It was just some junk food, a one off, quick meal. Neither of them could be bothered to cook tonight, and it was only one meal, right? They sat at the dining table in silence, Yuri only poking at his food, for how 'hungry' he was.

"You talk about me a lot to your mother?" Yuri's voice cut through the silence at last, and he could've sworn that Otabek blushed. He must be seeing things. "Yeah - I, uh, I talk about your skating. You're really good. She insists that we watch your routines together when I go back after a competition.." Was Yuri hearing things too, or did Otabek sound almost bashful about this? Yuri paused for a second, before laughing softly. It wasn't mean, no, and soon Otabek began to laugh along. "That's so sweet..! I love your mother. She's so..." He search for the right word, pausing with his fork in mid-air. "Loving." He settled on, smiling warmly now. Otabek nodded along, agreeing. He truly loved his Mama. He wasn't ashamed of that. He didn't know how he'd get on if she died.

"Plus..." He started again, smirking at Otabek. "What did she mean by meet the family?" His eyebrow was raised at Beka, an inquisitive question that had a few more underlying questions beneath it. Such as... What did this mean about them? What sort of stories had Otabek been telling his family? Despite his stoic nature, a light dusting of a blush could be seen spreading across his cheek, and he stared adamantly down at his plate of food, spearing it but not eating it. "She just wanted you to meet the family. She.. She thinks they'd all approve of you."

The response took him by surprise. His voice had dropped to a low mumble, sounding almost sorry about it. But really, it sent... It sent Yuri's heart aflutter. Not that he would ever admit this of course. In the recent weeks, certain feelings, shall we say, had grown. Something had always been there, but Yuri had forced it down until he didn't remember it existed - he was still living with his family then, and he was scared what would happen if they found out. Hah. For all he tried to stop it, they'd found out anyway. Turns out it was inevitable. When he looked away, he was almost blushing alongside Otabek too.

Glancing back at Otabek now, he saw he was smiling softly and supportively too. In this moment, life didn't seem too bad. All he focused on was his beautiful roommates smile, the support and care that radiated from him. Not the bruises or beatings, scars or scares. He nearly said something he really shouldn't have then. He'd nearly said those 3 words, that one phrase that would shatter absolutely everything they had together. 'I love you'. No, no matter what, he could never tell him. He didn't- He didn't want Otabek to shun him too. That much would break him, truly and utterly. Standing quickly from the table, blush growing deeper as it dawned on him how bad he nearly messed it all up. Ditching his plate in the sink, he walked past Otabek quickly without looking back, shout behind him something about being busy. The last thing he had seen was Otabek's smile dropping as Yuri stood up. A panic in his eyes. He ignored this.

He shut himself in the bathroom, deciding to run a bath. Today had been long, and he needed to think some shit over. Would he want to meet Otabek's family? And face up to everything that meant? Why had Otabek been blushing and smiling? It couldn't mean anything - just because he's gay doesn't mean his best friend would be into him. He needed to stop being so damn narcissistic all the time. It was toxic. He was toxic. Yuri tried to stop these thoughts as they flooded his brain, resembling the water gushing into the bathtub. Stripping of his clothes and sinking into the tub, he shut his eyes, letting his thoughts drift away. He lay and he thought... Although, he discovered, nothing seem to make sense. At some point he gave up, coming to reality once more, looking at himself in the tub.

With a sigh, he began to clean, touching each and every scar he passed over, acknowledging how and why he had gotten each one. Sometimes... Sometimes it made sense. He understood why his parents hit him. Why they told him he was disgusting. The answer was simple, really. Because he was. After scrubbing himself down he dunked himself back underwater, closing his eyes beneath the surface. Besides, when you're drowning, no one can see your tears.

* * *

 

When he got out of the bath, Otabek had already gone to bed. When he got in, he could see the lump of Otabek facing away from the door, presumably curled in on himself. Yuri said nothing, did nothing towards him, just shoving on some bed clothes (his joggers). As he climbed into bed carefully, so as not to wake Beka, he felt empty. His arms that were usually full of another man, or his back that usually leant into someone else was now bare. He felt stripped and vulnerable. Otabek, however, thought he was keeping a distance so as not to unnerve him.

Which is why, Yuri rolled over in bed, wrapping himself around Otabek. His heart beat more as he did so, but... He didn't regret it. Feeling Otabek lean back into him, he muttered a small prayer - something about not letting anything happen, or keeping him close as a friend. Yuri might be dead by now if it wasn't for Otabek. As he drifted off into sleep, it occurred to him that maybe Otabek thought the same.


	5. v. Endearing End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahhh hi last chapter tysm for reading this all the comments are so nice and sweet and it makes me really happy!! i'm definitely thinking of doing a sequel after this, im working on the base plot atm ayyy lots of potential for more angst if i ever did see some. also p/s my friend ais is rly cool they help give me rly good insp on this and are a supporter of my stuff bc im trashy and need reasurrance always :) (http://archiveofourown.org/users/Luaisling)  
> this one is kinda smaller than the rest but i'm still happy with it. again, tysm for all the comments and love??? i love hearing when my work makes you feel something, it's so sweet and genuinely inspires me to carry. sorry this took like 4 and a half months whoops.

Otabek blinked tiredly, awoken by the sound of something, although what it was, he wasn't quite sure. Turning over, slightly exiting the covers as he did so, he earned a half-asleep complaint from the other. As he grabbed for his phone, he frowned upon realizing it wasn't his alarm that had gone off. Raising an eyebrow to himself, he knew he'd heard something. Hadn't he? The only option was to wait if he'd hear it again. Moving back to his side with Yuri, he looked at him, feeling kind of bad for waking him. Pushing the quilt back to him he froze mid-action as he heard a solid, yet seemingly urgent, knock on the door.

Checking the time on his phone to make sure, he frowned slightly. It was 5:57am. Who the hell would be knocking on their door? Sighing, Otabek slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Yuri more than he already had. Tugging on a shirt from the floor, he headed to the front door, hesitating slightly as he got there. Some gut instinct was telling him not to open it. Shrugging it off, he pulled open the door, a mumbled "What do you--" escaping his mouth before he cut himself off. Staring at the people at the door, he frowned even more. He recognized them almost instantly.

Stood in front of him, in his damn doorway, was Yuri's parents. Lidochka and Abram Plisetsky. The two, vile excuses for human beings. Unsure how to respond, he let them speak first, fixing them with a glare. They looked slightly taken aback to see him, obviously expecting someone different, although they appeared to recognize him too - if only vaguely. The glare off lasted for a few minutes longer before they gave in first - they had come to his door for something after all, they were going to inquire.

"Where is Yuri." It was a command, not a question, and it came from Abram. He was taller than Otabek even, and his lips seemed turned up at the corners in a permanent sneer. His accent was thick, his voice the opposite of what Otabek had expected. He had expected a gravelly, monotonous voice. Instead, he was greeted with a voice smoother than honey, danger underlying. It suited him oddly, because he didn't look old at all, thought surely he was in his 30s, maybe even 40s now. Otabek plastered on a confused face, feigning just that, raising an eyebrow to them, responding in fluent Russian. "Yuri? Nobody named Yuri lives here. Only me." Their glares stayed in place, searching his face for any signs that he was lying to them. I mean, he wasn't wrong but still. "Liar. Where is the boy? He is ours, no? We've come to bring him home." This time, Lidochka had spoken.

Otabek's face hardened, confusion turning to a light glare. "You can't take him home, because there is no boy named Yuri here. Just me, and my plants." His muscles seemed to tense as he gripped the door frame with one hand, his other by his side, balling into a fist. How dare they demand to take him back? After how they treated him. He scoffed aloud, glaring openly now. "Now, would you kindly leave? You're making a scene in front of my neighbors, and it's early. I have practice in a few hours, so leave." Going to shut the door and triple lock it, Otabek's eyes widened when Abram shoved his foot in it, surprisingly strong. He tried to shut it properly without showing too much exertion, not wanting to be obvious. Abram smirked, meeting his eyes. "No Yuri? Then who is that?"

Otabek felt dread pool in his stomach. This was about to get so much worse.

* * *

 Half awoken by Otabek before, Yuri had stayed in a half-asleep-half-awake daze, almost drifting between the two states. Absentmindedly reaching out for Otabek's body and warmth, he frowned. Where was he? It was then that he began to hear properly, thick Russian voices coming through, angry, loud. His name being spoken. He sat up like a shot, eyes wide with recognition and fear. No. It couldn't be.

His hands began to shake, yet the yet of him was frozen, he couldn't move. He could hear Otabek speaking now, his near-fluent Russian still sounding foreign to his ears. Not taking in anything more that was being said save for snippets he scrambled out of the room, going to run to the corridor. Surely this was a nightmare. He only had to face it, and he'd see it was just an empty hallway, then he'd wake up. Simple. But yet it wasn't. As he ran into the hallway, he realized his mistake.

Locking eyes with Abram, Yuri felt his world come crashing down around him.

What happened next, seemed to happen in slow-motion; as cliche as that sounds. That's what they always say in books and films, isn't it? Slow motion, but you comprehend everything so fast. It's horrifying. Imagine seeing your best friend - and more than just that - shoved aside as though he meant nothing to his assailant. Imagine the sickening thud of his shoulder blades connecting with the door. Imagine seeing his body crumple to the floor. Imagine his pained face. Imagine this happening because they were your parents. Imagine this being your fault. Imagine being unable to stop it, to save him. Imagine.

Something snapped inside of Yuri. He ran then, away from everything, instincts kicked in but not fast enough. He ran to the bedroom, not thinking enough to go to a lockable room. Bundling himself as far away as possible into the corner, Yuri stared up at Abram's angered form. Chest rising and falling in quick succession, his 'Father' glanced at it, a disgusted sneer crossing his face.

"Seriously, boy? What are you trying to do. Trying to 'expose' us?" He frowned now, and in the corner of his eyes, Yuri thought he saw Lidochka enter the room, standing there primly. Like she didn't approve of him either, but chose to do it in a more refined manner - to let the men brawl it out. She.... she was a bystander. An initiator. An Enabler. Always was, and seems like always will. He scoffed down at the still-teenager, raising an eyebrow. "You know how we found you, right? Posting that stupid photo on your social medias. Could never resist, could you? It was like you wanted us to find you." Yuri could hear the grin in his voice. Of course. His eyes widened, guilt and terror seeping in. This was all his fault. No... But it is. One glance up at Abram told him as much, the truth showing through. 

This was all his fault.

Abram spoke again, but Yuri couldn't hear him properly. All he could hear was the tone, the anger. It was getting worse. No, please. His eyes started to fill, squeezing them shut; to protect them against what was to happen next. Before they closed he saw a first raising, and internally braced himself for the impact. Hot tears ran down his face already, at the loss of what he had now - he thought he'd gotten away. He thought he was safe. This was all his damn fault... he lead them here. He put Otabek in danger. His friend's pained face flashed in Yuri's mind again, and another stab of guilt hit him. He deserved this pain. After everything he'd done..? It was all his fault.

No impact. Cracking open his eyes slowly, Yuri glanced up at Abram, eyes widening for the third time in the last half hour to see Otabek, there, pushing him away. His hand on Abram's collar, pulling him up and pushing away, pure anger flashing in his eyes. A saviour. Lidochka, he could see now looking unruffled, almost scared of Otabek, she was shuffling for the door. She could leave for all he cared. If she left, he might follow. He could see them still now, Otabek obviously saying something. He wasn't shouting but his voice was strong. Yuri didn't bother to listen to what he said, almost sounding as though he were trapped in water.

* * *

Abram spat words back, but he was obviously defeated. Otabek let go of his shirt, distaste clear on his face. He clenched his fists as he followed the both of them out to the door; making sure they actually left, and locking the door behind them. Watching out the window to make sure they're gone. Then slowly walking back to Yuri, glancing down at the poor figure on the floor, unsure how to help. If he was to approach, what's to say he wouldn't freak out? Mistake him for those monsters? Looking down at him, all his scars and marks and bruises were visible, and for a millisecond in the madness of these moments, he pondered how many had been his parents, and how many him.

Kneeling down to be at the same level as him, he gently slipped a hand to cup Yuri's cheek, lifting his head so he had to look at him, identify him as safe. Yuri's tearful, broken blue eyes looked back up at him, like an abandoned kitten. When he spoke, his words shattered Otabek's heart. "I'm sorry. I-- He hurt you." Sniveling, Yuri had turned away, the only sounds being his tears hitting the floor as he stared down. "I- I thought I'd lose you. I can't... I don't think I can live without you. I love you, so much and I don't know how I would live without you being here." By now, his snivels had turned to sobs, as he spoke quickly, stuttering through a confession of sorts.

Otabek blinked, removing his hand as he stared at Yuri, eyes wide despite himself. "You... love me?" He mulled over the thought in his mind, questioning it, unwilling to accept it even as Yuri said it aloud. Besides, he might mean as a friend. He hoped that wasn't the case. In a response, Yuri nodded unable to look at the older male now. "I- I'm sorry. I know you're my best friend, I didn't want to fuck it up. I didn't mean - I'm sorry I just--" He was cut off by Otabek tapping his chin to lift his face again, and before Yuri could process it, Otabek gently pressed his lips to Yuri's.

"Why didn't you tell me earlier..?" Otabek mumbled as he pulled away, caring eyes looking down in his. "I.. I care for you too, Yuri. More than a friend. I have for a while, but only came to terms with it recently. You don't need to worry, and this isn't your fault." Sighing, he looked away, closing his eyes as he leaned his head against Yuri's knee, whom had gone quiet. His tears still fell but his sobs had stopped, staring down at the black hair of the man that lay at his feet. Thoughts swirled inside his head as he desperately tried to catch up to them. Everything that happened in the last half hour was happening too fast for him. Too fast, too much. He struggled to take it in. Otabek kissed him. His best friend, whom he loved more than anything. Kissed him. No? This can't have happened.

But it did.

"What? You mean- You like me back? No, I mean, you're not--" Otabek cut him off, finishing his sentence for him. "Gay? Since when did what I like matter, Yuri. It's who I like, and I like you." His voice was soft but tired, gentle, as though he was exhausted from this whole ordeal. He probably was. Looking up again at Yuri, he sighed eyes flickering away for a second, before back on his tear-stained face. "I'm sorry. They got in here because I couldn't protect you. I'm... so sorry." Yuri frowned as he shook his head, leaning forward to hold Otabek's head in his hands; one on either side of his face.

"Don't." He said nothing else, instead leaning forward further so that their foreheads leaned together, holding each other closer and closer still; even if they were one being it wouldn't have felt close enough. A hand on a shoulder, another on a knee, they were a mix of limbs and love. One of them had to pull away eventually, and it was Otabek, sitting back and glancing at Yuri. "You're tired." It was a statement, not a question, and he wearily got to his feet, reaching down to pick up Yuri. Carrying him the short way from the wall to the bed, he gently placed him down, as though the scars were still open wounds. They weren't, of course.

Stripping of the shirt he had put on to answer the door, dropping it on the floor to clean up later, Otabek took a second to glance at Yuri's sleepy form. Beautiful was the only thing he could think. Wasting no more time he climbed into bed with him, wrapping a protective arm around Yuri, holding him close, as they drifted off to sleep, in a mid-day nap.

* * *

 = T H E   E N D =


End file.
